


Songs and politics

by hadewijch



Category: Uprooted - Naomi Novik
Genre: F/M, Intrigue, Politics, Post-Canon, Songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-07 21:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20463992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hadewijch/pseuds/hadewijch
Summary: “Those outlandish songs they are singing about you,” he explained, “are making the Magnati and the Regent rather uneasy.”A slightly extended ending in which Agnieszka causes trouble at court without even realizing it.





	Songs and politics

The fire was dying to embers in front of us. Sarkan sat on the low bench where he had ensconced himself after the awkward introductions to my family were over, his arms crossed over the front of his too-grand coat. He’d flatly refused to dance when I asked him, but he had accepted the vodka my father offered him readily enough, and he’d stayed even after the last of the villagers had stumbled away, singing, into the dark streets of Dvernik. Now just the two of us were left. I sat down next to him on the bench and watched the last of the embers glowing amid the dark ashes. For a long time, neither of us said anything, until the silence between us stretched so taut I thought it would break.

“Why did you come back?” I blurted out finally. “I know it wasn’t for the taxes.”

He scowled sidelong at me from his side of the bench. “What did you expect me to say in front of your entire village?” he said.

I didn’t really care about his excuses; I just frowned back at him, and after a moment he sighed and looked away from me, into the fire.

“Those outlandish songs they are singing about you,” he explained, “are making the Magnati and the Regent rather uneasy.”

I groaned. “I’ve heard several of them. They’re terrible, but they’re not true, you know.”

He glared at me again. “Of course I know that. Everyone knows that. Although, knowing you, there’s bound to be a kernel of truth in one or two of them.”

"A kernel of truth?" I shot back. "Have you even listened to those songs? They’re saying I’m Jaga all over again. There’s even one that’s all about how I supposedly killed the old king! Or maybe you prefer the one that tells how Kasia and I slaughtered most of the Polnyan army?" I tried to give him a pointed look, but he flushed, and his black eyes glittered.

"Those are exactly the ones they’re concerned about,” he snapped. “They’re not merely songs; the Regent is under no delusions. He doesn’t relish having to deal with a new folk hero in the form of a peasant witch with no allegiance to the Crown.”

“What—” I sputtered. “What do you mean?” The idea that my loyalty could be in question seemed preposterous, after what Kasia, Sarkan, and I had done to protect the royal children and conquer the Wood. “Surely Stashek—”

“Prince Stanislaus,” Sarkan reminded me, “is not king until he comes of age, which will be more than a decade from now. And, as you should be well aware, your oath was sworn to the last king. You haven’t renewed it since the Regent was appointed.” I opened my mouth, outraged, but he held up a hand to silence me. “Meanwhile, several members of the Magnati expressed reservations about entrusting the safety of the kingdom to a half-trained girl. This faction – under Solya’s influence, unsurprisingly – persuaded the Regent to recall you from the Wood and place you under the close supervision of a confirmed witch or wizard. I’m sure you can guess which one.”

The food I had eaten at the feast formed a heavy, indigestible lump at the bottom of my stomach. I stared hard at Sarkan, suddenly understanding it all: his elaborate clothing, his presence in the valley, his attendance at Dvernik’s festival. He hadn’t come back for me, or even for himself. He’d come as the king’s representative, to take me back to Kralia and whatever fate awaited me there as Solya’s new apprentice. I felt my face getting hot.

“I won’t go,” I said, getting to my feet. “If it’s an oath they want, I’ll write it out and you can take it to the Regent yourself. But I’m not going back to Kralia with you, do you understand?” I stomped my foot, and the earth rumbled a little in reply.

“Whatever are you talking about?” he said, annoyed. “Stop making that noise; you’re going to wake the whole village. I'm not going back to Kralia, and neither are you.”

“But you said—”

“You haven’t let me finish,” he snapped. “What Solya suggested is out of the question. You _are_ a confirmed witch yourself, after all. I learned of the plan in time to argue your case before the Regent and the Magnati, and I was successful in getting them to do exactly as you suggested: to take your oath in writing, and to allow you to remain in the valley.”

"But then you came back because…" I faltered. I still didn't understand. He could have written me a letter to explain all this. Why come himself?

“They seemed to think it a good idea for you to have an experienced colleague to serve as your… assistant." He paused and grimaced, as if what he had just said tasted bad. "For lack of a better option, I volunteered myself."

The idea of Sarkan as my assistant seemed so ridiculous that I almost burst into laughter. I thought he couldn’t be serious, until he glowered at me from under his dark brows, and suddenly I realized he was.

“That seems like another of Solya’s ideas,” I said tentatively.

“Yes, well, I suspect he intended to get rid of me one way or another,” Sarkan said primly. “He made it clear that he saw me as an obstacle to regaining his former standing in Kralia. I was willing to play into his hands in this case, however.”

He had knowingly allowed Solya to manipulate him into giving up his position at court? I opened my mouth and snapped it shut again. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just stood in front of him, completely at a loss for words.

"I thought you would, perhaps, prefer this arrangement to the alternative,” Sarkan continued, speaking quickly, as if he felt he needed to justify himself. “I assure you that I will be here in a purely auxiliary capacity, and I will not interfere with your methods. And, as I told the Regent, it makes sense to appoint me; I have the longest history of experience with the Wood out of all the confirmed wizards, and I am still the Crown’s legal representative in the valley, so I can easily be of service to you in both roles…” His voice trailed off uncharacteristically, and he glared up at me, bristling with trepidation. “Don’t just stand there with your mouth open,” he burst out. “If you object to my presence, by all means, request someone more suitable.”

“Of course not,” I said faintly. I hadn’t expected any of this, and I couldn’t keep up; my knees felt wobbly, and I sat down heavily on the bench again. “Of course I don’t object.”

He scowled into the fire. The night air was chilly, and I hugged my arms together in front of me and shivered a bit. Sarkan muttered at the embers, and they flared back into bright, crackling warmth. For a few moments neither of us said anything.

“It was the one about the witch who tames a maiden-eating dragon, wasn't it?” I asked him, watching him out of the corner of my eye. "One of the songs that had a kernel of truth?"

It wasn’t really the question I wanted to ask, but it gave me the answer I wanted.

“You are absolutely insufferable,” he said stiffly. Even in the firelight, I could see that his face had flushed bright red. At the same time, though, his mouth quirked up at one corner, a not-quite-suppressed smile.

"I thought so," I said. I took his hand, and he laced his fingers tightly through mine.


End file.
